Lines and Points
by MysticJadeShoe
Summary: Lovino's always painted down his feelings, ever since his grandpa died. But what does that have to do with Matt trying to make him ask his long-time crush out? AU, Spamano, Franada.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my new Hetalia fanfic. If you were one of my Harry Potter watchers... I'm sorry T.T Just ignore this. Unless you love Hetalia.**

**Soo anyway, I'd written this a while ago and just now it occurred to me to FREAKIN' POST THE DARN THING, so yay. I hope you enjoy~**

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><p>He'd added new words to it every day since his grandfather died. He'd never missed a day for the world, always remembered to take the paintbrush to the wood every day to keep his memory alive.<p>

Sure, maybe Grandpa had preferred his younger brother. He took Feli to live with him, after all, and left his other grandson out in the cold. And that had hurt like nothing else.

Then again, so had his dying. It was as if a part of Lovino had died with the ancient man he looked up to so much; as if he had also been buried next to him, a small child curled warmly into the crook of his arm. But he hadn't cried at the funeral. No, he had to keep a stiff upper lip for Feliciano and be the best big brother he could.

Just like Grandpa had told him to.

He held the paintbrush in his teeth as he climbed up the ladder of the old treehouse. This had only been his and Grandpa's secret, though the words on the walls would have been new to him.

He lifted the trapdoor and the familiar view of the interior greeted him; a simple bed with a hand-carved wooden frame to the right, a bare though-slightly-paint-spattered wooden floor, a large chest to the left that had once been used for toys but Lovino now used for paints and his favorite brushes. It was all there. Just like last time.

Lovi pulled himself up through the door, put his feet on the ground, shut the door, and looked up at his favorite part of the treehouse - the ceiling.

Across the ceiling were words and phrases of every color in Lovi's paint artillery available, swirling in an incoherent pattern. He preferred it to be less coherent; it was more art to him that way. Reaching up a confident finger to see if yesterday's phrases were dry yet and removing the paintbrush from his mouth, his eyes scoured the ceiling for a free place he could use for this morning.

Ah, there. By the wall close to the paint chest. He strode to the chest, cracking it open with one hand while preparing the other to pick a color at random.

He shut his eyes and stuck his hand in the box, putting his fingers firmly around a can, then retrieved it to get a look at the color he'd be using.

A vibrant, flamenco-dress-type red came forth from the box. Dammit. Did everything he did have to remind him of that bastard? He gritted his teeth and opened the can, setting the lid to the side and dipping the brush in the paint.

Now what would he paint today?

Should he write about his brother? No, he already had too much for his brother in there, everything from "I hate you so much!" to "Pay more attention to me will you?" and "If you keep going out with that potato bastard I'll... I'll... do something dangerous!"

He'd already written all he needed to write to Grandpa: in blue, painted over his bed in shaky, little-boy handwriting, said, "I miss you."

Femke didn't need anything written about her, because she was just too freaking perfect in every way.

And... and... there was really no one else to write about.

Damn, he needed a social life.

He looked again at the paint and absentmindedly let his thoughts take him where they were frantically trying to go - to green eyes, tanned skin, slightly messy, curly dark brown hair, a stupid grin...

Frantically he shook his head before the daydream got farther. He really needed to stop doing that. No. He was not writing about that idiot. He didn't know how he really felt about him anyway...

Sighing, he swirled the brush around in the paint and pulled it out, then put it against the wall. He began writing in his flowing, elegant script, taking special care to make this one legible and good-looking to boot.

It wasn't like Feli could do better - his writing looked like chickenscratch. Femke had pretty writing, but it was really too girly for this kind of thing. That idiot Gilbert's handwriting could barely be called handwriting, Francis only wrote in cursive, and Antonio's handwriting was really similar to Femke's.

Kind of a combination of Grandpa's and Femke's, now that he though about it, but not of them at all. It was totally unique. Just like the rest of him.

"Lovino! Lovino, dove sei?"

He almost jumped out of his skin. His brother's high-pitched Italian had just interrupted his reverie and satisfactorily messed up the last letter of his phrase.

"I'm coming already!" he yelled, infuriated as he covered the paint and threw the paintbrush down on the floor. He darted across the floor and opened the trapdoor, slipping through it nimbly and shutting it quietly behind him.

And there, freshly painted and now drying in the ray of sunlight streaming through the window, the last letter slightly squiggled, were the words Lovino didn't know how to say.

I think I love you.


	2. Chapter 2

The brothers made it right on time for school, meaning they both had to practically fly down the hall to make it for their first class together. Lovino waved at Femke as he passed, who grinned and waved back before joining hands with Roderich, who happened to be conveniently standing next to her.

Ugh. That guy is such a creep.

In his giving the two a passing glance, Feli had managed to get pretty far ahead of him - boy had a freaking power stride when he put his mind to it - and that was an unqualified disaster.

"Feli! Aspettami! FELI!"

He'd just managed to catch up to his brother when they both made it to the classroom.

Lovino tried, he really did. He tried to catch ahold of his brother's wrists or maybe get a firm hold on his bookbag strap, but on top of fast his brother could be downright sneaky when he wanted to. He slipped completely from his brother's grasp and burst through the classroom door -

"BUON GIORNO PROFESSORE!"

"Vaffanculo..." he muttered angrily as he buried his face in his hands. He was going to die of embarassment where he stood, he was sure of it. It wasn't like he could practically hear the kids passing glances to each other and staring at Feliciano like he was some loony bin reject.

"Er... good morning to you too, Mr. Vargas..." the poor teacher said awkwardly. Heh. Lovino had never liked the geometry teacher - he had absurdly long blonde hair that he usually kept in a ponytail with a stupid little braid running down the side that annoyed the ever-living hell out of Lovi - but right now he pitied him. "Please, you and your brother take a seat."

Oh no. Do not associate me with him right now. Right now this is some guy who bears a striking resemblance to me but I don't know from Adam.

"Come on, fratello!" Feli reached for his brother's hand, the latter shoving both hands deep in his pockets before anything of the sort could happen and stalking to his desk. He slid into it, setting his bookbag down on the floor, crossing his arms on the desk and sitting back like he owned the place. His brother's stupid outburst was not going to affect his social standing, damn him.

It wasn't long before a slip of paper made it to his desk.

_Try not to let that affect you so much. I mean, we all know Feli's weird anyway. :) But he's probably trying to lighten Mr. Muller's day just a little._

Lovino popped open his bookbag, stuck the note in there, pulled out his notebook, and wrote a note back.

_Lighten the teacher's day and kill me in the process? Great idea. Forgive me if I'm not overly enthusiastic about it._

He passed the note to the bespectacled blonde next to him, who smirked and scribbled a note back.

_You know what I mean. And anyway, I think Muller needs it a bit more than the other teachers._

_Muller is a psychopath._

_He's actually a really nice guy if you get to know him._

_Isn't he related to that Ludwig Beilschmidt?_

_Not the point. Anyway. How're you this morning besides ready to go homicidal on your brother? ;)_

_I am 1. Tired. 2. And behind on my History homework. 3. And my brother's still dating that potato macho. 4. And Antonio's still running with his Trio._

_1. Did you stay up all night writing again?_  
><em>2. You hate History.<em>  
><em>3. Feli's dating Ludwig because they love each other.<em>  
><em>4. How is that a bad thing? Just proves your crush isn't a social reject.<em>

_1. Yes, I can't help it if that's when I'm most creative._  
><em>2. Yes, yes I do.<em>  
><em>3. Well he shouldn't. That bastard's going to do something to my fratello and I'm going to have to bail him out again.<em>  
><em>4. He's running around with freaking Francis and Gilbert!<em>

_Alright, screw numbers. You need to sleep or take night school or something. No, he's not going to hurt him. And what's wrong with Francis?_

_No way. Yes he will. When the hell did we skip two? Ahh, merda. I forgot you were dating that pervert._

_Then sleep at night. No he won't. The same time we decided to be friends. And he's not a pervert! He's actually really nice!_

_Sure, a really nice pervert who goes around groping half the student body._

The two continued to pass notes throughout the class silently, having long mastered the art form that is passing notes without getting caught by the teacher.

He would never tell a soul, but besides Femke his best friend probably had to be Mathieu Williams. The two started in first grade by bonding over the fact that they were the frequently-overlooked brothers and the rest just came. They were polar opposites, but they were extremely close. Close enough for Matt to know almost all of his deepest secrets, fears, ideas, longings. Hell, Matt'd even seen him crying in the ninth grade and heard him laughing in fifth.

And vice versa. Lovi had seen every side to the Canadian - his usual quiet, sweet side, his jokester side, his romantic side, his angry side, his daring side - just to name a few. He'd seen Matt get downright pissed off and ready to hack someone's head off with a chainsaw. Difference was he could control his anger.

Except that time he had decked a guy for calling his brother Alfred a queer.

That was pretty funny, actually. No one had expected it from the gentle and timid Mathieu.

But if you hurt someone close to Matt, he would track you down in less than twenty-four hours and have your skin hanging above his fireplace before you could do anything about it. Admirable loyalty, to be sure.

Lovino secretly wished he could be half that reliable.

"...and before we can go on about bisectors, let's review the term congruent. Can anyone define this term for me?"

Lovino and Mathieu glanced at each other. The former started nodding his head at the teacher, while the latter shook his head and looked back expectantly. They played this game every class they had together - constantly egging each other just to answer the stupid question and get it over with. They usually wound up raising their hand at the same time because of this.

This time, before either could so much as move their pinkie, Feli's hand had shot up in the air excitedly.

"Yes, Feliciano?"

"Angles are only congruent if they have the same length or degree of measurement."

"Very good. Today we're going to be bulding on this concept..."

The teacher's words faded into the background as the duo stared at each other from across the aisle of desks, sharing common shock: Feliciano had bothered to remember something that wasn't a recipe.

Five seconds later, Matt had passed Lovi a note.

_Miracles are happening today. I think this is a good day to make your move._

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><p><strong>New-teacher-guy is Germania, you probably guessed it. :3<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

Why was he so shaky? He wasn't supposed to be like this!

Lovino was just nearing the end of his last class before lunch - English class with Mr. Kirkland - and he was feeling like he had gone without food for three days and his blood sugar had somehow managed to all leak out his ear just now without his permission or knowledge.

"Stop freaking out so bad," Matt whispered. "You'll be fine."

"H-How the hell did you con me into this?"

"Well, it _is_ a day of miracles," he pointed out just as the bell rang. Lovino tried not to faint at the annoying sound as the students stood up as a collective entity and started to pick up their stuff.

"Alright, students, remember to finish your outline for a memoir by Tuesday and turn it in to me for full credit. Your outline should be about eight paragraphs long and no, you may most certainly not write about the time you single-handedly saved the world with nothing but a hamburger and three fries _because you didn't,_ Alfred Jones," Mr Kirkland said snappishly as said student raised his hand. "Don't forget to..."

Lovino didn't hear what he wasn't supposed to forget because he finally out the door and walking down the hall with the other students to the cafeteria, Matt close behind and Femke running to join them. He wasn't sure how he was actually walking right now, because he felt like he was going to faint at any given moment and his knees were about to buckle and he was going to freaking break down crying or die in the middle of the hall because he couldn't do it, he wasn't going to -

"HEY, DUDE!"

His eyes snapped open to find two huge, blue eyes cracked wide open directly in front of them. Not expecting this, he did his best not to yelp and kick this creeper in the balls.

"...wh-what the hell."

Speaking turned out to be a bad idea, as it opened the floodgates known as Alfred Jones' Mouth.

"SO! I was totally coming here to you because I wanted to ask you - I mean, you know, you're the expert on this stuff and all and everyone I asked told me to go to you because you were kinda the go-to guy on this stuff and like, who would I go to besides the guy who knows what he's doing? And that'd be you! Right?" He blinked. "You are Lovino Vargas, right?"

"...duh."

"Knew it! I almost cornered your brother out in the Science hall instead of you. Haha, you two look pretty similar, y'know? Just you got this curl over here and he's got it over there -" He pointed at the curl on Lovi's head, and Lovi involuntarily tensed up and got ready to spearhead this idiot into next week.

Luckily for them both he pulled his finger back.

"Anyway. So can you see it?"

"It's on the side of my head, so no."

"What? No, dude, not your curl, I mean... can't you see it?"

"The hell are you talking about?"

"C'mon, stop kidding around! Can you see it?"

"I don't know what you're getting at!"

The American pouted. "I'm talking about my mustache, dude." He pointed at his painfully clean upper lip... what was he...

And then it hit him like a tomato to the face - painfully obvious, annoying, and really funny depending on your point of view. Lovino was trying, he really was. But it was hard to keep from grinning.

"Nothing yet. Keep trying and maybe you'll get a sort-of stubble-ish thing there." He pushed Alfred's head back with a finger and continued walking down the hall, a light smirk playing across his features as he hauled his bookbag higher up his shoulder.

...wait, did that moron seriously insinuate that he was Lovino Vargas, Mustache King of the Tenth Grade?

He barely had time to envision himself with a crown with a mustache on it commanding all grades to bow to him before Femke and Matt finally caught up to him, both of them laughing so hard they just about had to lean on each other for support.

"I think that was just about the weirdest freaking social interaction I have had... ever," he said, turning around and facing the two. Matt actually had tears running down his face; he was bent over and trying not to fall.

"I - I'm sorry - pfffhahaaa - I was gonna tell you -" He removed his glasses and wiped at his eyes, still laughing hard. Femke, being the first to regain her composure, started patting Matt's back and looking up at Lovi.

"I can't believe he did that," she said, shaking her head and smiling still.

Suddenly she paused and looked at Lovino again.

"Roma," she said, using her pet name for him. Number one sign that he should run for all he was worth. "Matt told me you were going to try to... talk to Antonio today?"

Lovino's eyebrow twitched involuntarily. He had just managed to forget that, and now here she was, bringing it up and expecting a solid answer from him. Maybe it would be better for everyone involved and all in the near proximity if he just pined away in the corner and didn't make a move at all.

Matt had stopped laughing and was now as serious as Femke. "You are going to do it, aren't you?"

Time to lie. "W-Well, duh, I am. What, do I look like I'm about to wave a freaking white flag at something this - pfft - stupid? Easy? Please."

Femke raised an eyebrow.

Time for plan B.

Lovi turned around, opened up his bookbag, pulled out his pencil, then tore a piece of paper from his notebook. He then stood back up and took out Femke's hair ribbon (she didn't care), punched two holes in the paper, looped the ribbon through them and tied it around the pencil.

"Damn, Lovino, you can make an impromptu white flag with anything," Matt said. "Bonus points for the stylish bow. It really adds to the 'I surrender' factor."

"I'm not sure if I'm going to take that as a compliment or something I should be upset about," Lovi replied, waving the flag a bit. "Now how about I just throw this at his head and we call it a day?"

The look they both gave him simultaneously gave him all he needed to realize he wasn't getting out of this.

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><p>Our trio walked into the cafeteria, two enthusiastically and one being dragged.<p>

You can probably guess who was who.

Matt and Femke were pulling their cranky Italian friend across the large cafeteria and towards another trio: the infamous Bad Touch Trio, consisting of Francis, Gilbert, and - Lovino gulped - Antonio. The first was checking his nails, the second was 'kesesesese'-ing loud enough for the entire room to hear, and the third was smiling and laughing with his friends, those green eyes of his shining fantastically as he did so.

_Damn it, Lovino, get ahold of yourself!_

"Alright, Lovi, breathe, stop blushing, and be yourself, mkay?" Femke said, forcing him to stand up straight by pulling the front of his collar up.

"We're cheering for you, and I'll be with you anyway," Matt said, glancing at Francis. "Are you ready?"

Lovino paled. "Hell no!"

"Then let's go!"

"Good luck!" Femke cheered as Matt dragged him off.

It seemed to take less than half a second for them to suddenly be at the table where the Bad Friends sat, talking and laughing and doing whatever they generally do.

Francis was the first to take notice of his beloved's presence.

"Ahh, mon Mathieu!" he cooed, standing up and greeting the Canadian with a kiss on the cheek.

"Francis," he replied, blushing slightly.

Gilbert blinked and stopped with his traditional evil cackle. "Wait, who?" After a quick glare from Francis, he shook his head and grinned. "Never mind, I remember you. A special 'welcome back' from the Awesome Me!"

Antonio laughed. "Nice to see you again, Mathieu," he said, reaching out a hand for him to shake. He took it and shook back, grinning back at the Spaniard.

"You too, Antonio." Suddenly he remembered he was there for something and he put an arm around Lovi (much to the dismay of the latter, who had been trying to find a way to sneak off). "Have you guys met my friend Lovino?"

Gilbert have a raucous laugh. "Ja, he's the one that gave my brother an early moo-stache. Most awesome, dude."

A compliment from that bastard? Lovino wasn't sure to be flattered or insulted for the second time that day.

"Oui, I have seen you two hanging out in the hallways," Francis said. "And we have exchanged the occasional... greeting."

_By 'greeting' he probably means 'spearheading'_, Lovi thought.

Antonio, it seemed, preferred not to speak and was simply watching Lovino, his eyes meeting the others' with a smile. It weirded him out slightly.

"Si, I've met Lovino. He's in my History class."

And that there was why History was Lovino's worst class.

Finally they all sat down, Francis and Matt side by side, Gilbert at the head of the table, and Antonio and Lovino sitting across from each other.

"Hey, Matt, who do you have again for English?" Gilbert asked suddenly.

"Kirkland. You?"

"Ahh, I feel bad for you." He grinned. "I got into AP this year with Ms. Sesel."

_I imagine he's failing that class,_ Lovi thought.

"You got Sesel?" Matt replied skeptically. "What's she like?"

"Oh, she's one of the most awesome teachers here, I kid you not. I mean, if I were a teacher here, I'd obviously be the most awesome teacher on the face of the public school system, but she's pretty cool too. And she loves my writing. Did you know English is her second language?"

"You write? And no, I didn't! That's pretty cool that she's teaching AP English, then."

This conversation kept going on for quite a while, Lovino continuing to think smart-aleck comments as it went. Sometimes he'd glance across the table at Antonio and stare at his stupid, happy grin for a second, then feel like an idiot and look back at Matt or at the table.

Lunch hour seemed to stretch to three hours just for Lovi's annoyance as he sat at the table and heard the various conversations wash over him.

But finally, and thankfully, the bell rang.

And he hadn't said a word to Antonio the whole time.

It was relieving and totally infuriating all at the same time. He picked up his bag and started to walk towards the History classroom.

You see, it was not lunch, but in the hallway that Lovino met his doom, for the Spanish idiot ran up to him right as he was about to walk into the classroom door.

"H - Hola, Lovino - phew! Sorry, broke into a bit of a run back there, but - haha - I was wondering if -"

"What do you want?" he replied, trying to sound snappish but failing miserably for once.

"I was - you know, talking with Francis and Gilbert before you and Matt arrived and we were planning to go somewhere tonight!" Antonio said cheerily.

Lovi froze. What was he getting at?

"And so I was wondering, if, you know, you'd like to come along? Matt would come with us, and so would Vash Zwingli, and I just wanted to know if maybe you had anything going on tonight, and - yeah." He smiled, not looking nervous in the slightest.

"What - exactly - are you asking me...?"

"I wanted to know if you wanted to go out with us tonight!"


	4. Chapter 4

"So what did you say?" Matt whispered curiously.

Lovino proceeded to stuff his nose deeper in his sketch book.

"Oh, come on. You said yes, didn't you."

Predictaby, he blushed, though he desperately tried to focus on the drawing he was doing. He glared at the paper unsatisfactorily - why couldn't his drawings be graceful and perfect like his brothers' sketches? Head shape was going to be his freaking downfall, dammit...

"Come on."

"Go away," he mumbled.

"Just tell us, Roma," Femke added.

_This head is really driving me crazy... 'course, his hair will cover that up, soon as I add it on there, but now I have to do facial detail... ugh, I HATE mouths... come to think of it, is there much I don't hate? Because I can't draw worth a damn..._

"Lovino, will you just tell us already?"

He was already irritated, he now had lost all focus on this drawing, and his friends weren't helping. _Fine, whatever, I'll just tell them._

"Yes. I said yes. Are you happy now? Now will you leave me the hell alone?" he hissed under his breath.

"Knew it," Matt replied, smiling. "And yes, I am quite happy to hear that. It's about time, frankly - no offense, but it gets annoying to listen to you pine away oh-em-gee kawaidesu hopelessly after a while. How did he ask you?"

"He asked me right before we walked into freaking History class," he muttered, brushing off the pining comment. He'd obviously been hanging around Kiku Honda again. "I'm blaming him for the fact that I failed Mister Wang's damn pop quiz."

Femke giggled. "You can't have it both ways, Lovi."

"I can sure as hell try."

"Anyway, Femke, now that Lovino and I have plans, what're you doing tonight?" Matt asked, interrupting the beginnings of a squabble.

She smiled. "Staying home with mijn broer Abel tonight. We're going to make cakes together. I'm considering offering to make Mr. Kirkland a cake if he proposes to Ms. Sesel already," she said cheekily.

Lovino continued to gnaw on his lower lip and screw up his drawing as his two best friends started whispering back and forth about how Ms. Sesel and Mr. Kirkland needed to just suck it up and get together already.

_Romance._

How it managed to sneak its way into every aspect of his life like that he'd never really know. He couldn't _blow his nose_ without gay little pink hearts of romantical crap somehow making it onto the freaking Kleenex... Frankly, it was starting to bug him.

Especially that little thrill he got in the pit of his stomach whenever someone said _Antonio Fernandez Carriedo._ Or when their eyes met for half a second at the longest, electric green to hazel, from across the room.

God. He really needed a life.

But he really couldn't help it. Antonio was a lot more than a simple piece of eye candy; he'd been very kind to Lovino in the past in whatever dealings they had (there were a few that stood out in his mind).

He was one of the nicest popular boys at school. As popular as you could get while being nice, really. Which was only vaguely popular. He wasn't the type to care about trivial things like that, which was another thing that made him so appealing to Lovino.

Well, there were a lot of reasons for that. But that was one of them. He was always smiling, always laughing, always cheering people around him (Lovino could even remember when Antonio started using a cheer-up charm on him due to the fact that he looked "way too sad and that's not good at all!"). He was reliable and thoughtless, sweet and clueless, courageous and idiotic.

He was Lovino's polar opposite, and finally Lovi could attest to the saying 'opposites attract'. Even if it was one-sided attraction, it still totally counted. Then again, he didn't know if it was one-sided; there was still the slim hope that cheerful Antonio had a thing for sarcastic, melodramatic, snappish guys -

"Lovino? Lovino, the bell rang."

"Wha?" he looked up from his drawing, snapping out of his reverie. Students everywhere were up and talking now, gathering their books and discussing plans for that Friday night, laughter echoing through the air.

He hadn't even noticed the freaking bell ringing.

Femke had a silly grin on her face. "You didn't notice the annoying, loud, attention-grabbing, mania-inducing bell. You were thinking about_ him_ again, weren't you."

He blushed yet again. "Oh, shut up."


	5. Chapter 5

**It's me again!~ It took me a bit to scribble this down, but eventually I DID get the inspiration for this chapter! :3 I hope the plot's not going too slowly, I do. And to get me off my temporary writer's block, I decided to switch to Antonio's POV for this chapter. I think I write better Antonio than Lovino, but do tell me.**

**Here's this chapter!~**

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><p>"If you keep stressing yourself like this - and I'm trying to say this like Francis here - you're going to have your face erupt into an un-awesome attack on your complexion."<p>

"I do believe mon poussin is correct 'ere. Don't tense up so bad, ma illet! It is extremely unnatractive!"

Antonio nodded, forcing himself to breathe evenly again. "Right. You're right as usual. I just need to relax. He'll show up. Right? Of course he'll show up, it's not like he won't!" He laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm overthinking this. Aren't I?"

GIlbert nodded, half-sprawled across a park bench next to Francis, his head on the other's lap as Francis put his hair into little individual braids. "As usual. And really, it's dangerous when you try to use your brain."

The little boy next to Antonio giggled. "He's right, 'Toni."

"See, if your little brother agrees with me, I'm right."

Antonio nodded again, smiling nervously. "Of course, you're all right again. I shouldn't be so worried."

Five minutes later, he had gone back to his frequent fidgeting and spontaneous grabbing of Francis' wrist to check his watch (much to his dismay, since his hand was being taken from the dainty, cute braids in his albino friend's hair).

"They're late. They're two minutes late. I never should have asked him, I just scared him away!" Antonio moaned, pulling the hood of his sweater over his face with an infuriated sadness. "What if he doesn't like me at all? What if he thinks I'm annoying? What if he doesn't swing that way, Francis? You know these things, tell me!"

Francis (who had just been distracted from his braiding for the fifth time in under two minutes) looked at his Spanish friend with a slight hint of irritation.

"You really, really want to know what I think?"

Antonio nodded enthusiastucally.

"I think he's so gay that the 'ole school knows. I also think that you should shut up and relax so I don't 'ave to worry about pulling out Gilbert's 'air for a few minutes. And if you can't do that, carry your own watch."

And with that, Francis went right back to work on his friend's hair.

"Mein awesome friend is right, Toni," Gilbert added. "It's kind of easy to tell with him - he's got that gay thing to him, y'know? The way he always manages to take the perfect amount of care of his hair and clothes and also the way he walks and the way my Awesome Gay-dar goes off the walls whenever he walks into the same room as me. Also, I think I've had more hair pulled out today then when I had my hair stuck in a wood-chipper and Vati had to yank my hair out before it got me."

Adria, who had taken a few hesitant steps from Antonio's side, stared. "You really got your hair stuck in a wood-chipper?"

"Ja. It's best not to ask how that happened. Just don't ask Lud how, because he likes to pretend it didn't happen," Gilbert explained as Francis muttered "Zut alors..." under his breath, adjusting his hands to better braid.

The younger boy blinked, one eye electric green and the other bright blue, and looked at the floor shyly before retreating to his older brother's side again. Antonio absentmindedly ruffled his brother's soft hair before anxiously biting his knuckle.

"What if they don't come, if they don't come I'll die, they have to come, Lovi said he'd come, this was a bad idea..." he muttered softly as he stared at the sky, the vivid beginnings of a fantastic sunset dancing across the sky. He tried not to grab Francis' watch again, instead keeping his hand in Adria's hair.

Suddenly he felt a small tug on his sleeve. Snapping out of his reverie, he looked down at the big-eyed boy, his head still only up to Antonio's stomach.

Ah, Adria. Only Adria could put up with him when he was like this - before they'd left, he'd put up with his older brother constantly asking him how he looked and changing his outfit every five minutes to make sure he looked just right for his precious tomaquet.

"What is it, Adria?" he asked.

The boy smiled. "Toni, he'll show up, okay? I know he will."

The Spaniard exhaled slowly before asking, "How can you be so sure?"

"It's simple. He made a promise to come, and he wouldn't break a promise from what you've told me about him. Don't worry, Toni. Your tomaquet will show up."

Antonio only had half a second to blush before Francis called out, sounding slightly relieved, "Your boyfriend is 'ere, Antonio! Now you can quit being a nervous wreck and grabbing my wrist every five seconds!"

"F-Francis, don't say those kinds of things now, not now, not while he's here!" Antonio hissed between his teeth, turning to look for the Italian.

And there he was, walking towards them - his reddish-brown, dark hair which lightly fringed over his face just right, his traditional irritated look, eyebrow quirked down ever so slightly, mouth turned in a small frown, and those gorgeous, greenish-brown eyes of his that gave his every emotion backup with a dazzling sparkle.

More like a zap, really.

He could only imagine how amazing Lovino looked when he smiled.

* * *

><p>"So what the hell? I thought you were the Bad Friends Freaking Trio, why are we at a park of all places?" the Italian asked, running his fingers through his hair. Matt smacked his hand away, to which he gave a gentle "tch!" and stuck it back in his pocket.<p>

Gilbert gave him a look. "Are you kidding? Have you not seen the kind of people that are walking around in this park?"

"Yeah, they all look weird like you."

"EXACTLY! We're here because there's a concert here! And it's going to be freakin' awesome!"

"Well, it's not so much a concert, exactly," Antonio explained to Lovino, daring to look at him with a smile. "It's more like an arts festival. So there's all kinds of stuff here, really, not just concerts."

Francis tossed some of his hair over his shoulder casually. "But the point is that there is one 'ere, and that is the main reason for our coming."

"Oh." Lovi stuck his other hand in his pocket as well, looking to the side - which happened to be directly at Antonio, whose heart promptly did a backflip and leaped into his throat...

Get ahold of yourself, Antonio!

Dios, this was going to be a difficult night...

* * *

><p><strong>New character is my friend's OC, Andorra! She's MeeperViolin on deviantArt :) Look her up, and look for Adria!~<strong>


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